Lord Byron’s Courage in a Crisis
The strange origins of his bravery and his style
I’ve always wanted to be like Lord Byron. He dressed well and he was brave in a crisis. When a ship in which he was a passenger threatened to run on the rocks during a storm, he left the sailing to the sailors. He wrapped himself in his big black cloak and went to sleep. He invented the Byronic hero via the autobiographical characters in his epic poems. To be Byronic is to be inclined to excess and to have a dark secret (or several) in your past. He’s handsome, but also brooding. He’s capable of sexual licentiousness, but he’s also a reliable friend. He’s a writer who can shape a line of poetry so that it’s musical and as accessible as prose. His style is mock heroic. He embraces acts of extravagant courage, but makes fun of himself at the same time. He’s destined to die young.
Okay, maybe I don’t want to do or be all those things, but in the midst of a corona crisis I don’t like being glum or fearful or forever dressed in sweat pants. I want to be dashing and devil-may-care. I want to wear starched shirts and maroon velvet slippers even if I’m self-isolating indoors.
